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When night falls and the breeze from the Hope River sweeps through Tavern, Clive Spence lies awake, his chest tightening with every groan of the wind and rustle of leaves.

The St Andrew welder has lived with this anxiety for years, knowing the riverbank that cradles his community is crumbling, inch by inch, under his feet.

His hands, rough from years of welding, instinctively reach for the ropes he has fastened across his shop roof, a humble, home-made barricade against the potential storms. For more than 50 years, Spence has lived on this edge, watching the land beneath his neighbours' houses slip away, bit by bit. What was once a wide, solid space where families grew backyard gardens is now a fragile strip of eroded ground, crumbling closer to his doorstep each year.

He remembered a time when children played freely along the riverbank, when the soil was thick and firm and homes felt safe. Now, with every rainy season, he watches entire chunks of earth disappear, carrying away trees, fences and even parts of houses leaving the community to patch what's left, praying that the next storm won't be the one to finish the job.

"From mi born, me wah lef yah, fi tell yuh the honest truth," Spence told THE STAR. "But it take whole heap a money fi think fi move, and a nuh everybody have it like that. If me could a leave now now now, me gone."

His house sits slightly back from the river's edge, but his welding shop, built just five years ago, across from his home, stands fully exposed. Made of board walls, a zinc roof, and steel-framed windows, the shop is his greatest concern as Jamaica's hurricane season begins.

"Mi affi strap it dung and watch it, especially when mi see the weather get bad," Spence explains, showing the ropes tied across the shop roof. "Yuh see how the time hot? The heat real bad. Nuh surprise one storm out deh a develop."

The 2025 Atlantic hurricane season begin on Sunday and runs through November 30, with forecasters predicting above-average activity. According to early projections from the Colorado State University Tropical Weather and Climate Research team, this season is expected to produce around 23 named storms, including 11 hurricanes, five of which could become major hurricanes (Category 3 or higher).

Spence has been welding for more than 30 years, but every storm season brings a new layer of fear. Even outside the hurricane months, rain falling from the nearby hills sparks his anxiety, but during storms, it's worse.

"First thing me affi make sure say me safe. Otherwise, mi know say the season a come, mi just look out a night time. Mi hardly sleep," he admits.

When Hurricane Beryl hit Jamaica's south side last year, Tavern was spared the worst, but power outages still swept through the community. For three days, Spence ran his generator non-stop, spending $13,000 on gas just to help neighbours charge their phones and small devices.

"Mi buy one generator some years ago and is a crazy amount a phone me affi charge," he recalls. "It just so happen how it come in handy, because sometimes when the weather get bad, the light go weh, and it leave most of my neighbour dem stranded."

This season, he's already preparing for that role again. "Mi a save up fi it man, because each one help one," Spence said.

But the storms bring more than just power cuts. Spence remembers when flood waters swept through the community in 2017, taking with it chunks of the community. His voice drops as he points to the spot where it happened.

"Dem time deh me start fret because is only a matter a time before mi house bruck weh. It nuh impossible," he says. "Mi stand up from yah suh and look pan some house a bruck weh, and every night mi stay up a worry and a fret. A cause mi see the house a bruck weh. Me cya get the image outta me mind."

Before that breakaway, he says, trucks could turn easily at the riverbank. Now, 20 to 30 feet of land is simply gone, and so are many of the people who once lived there.

"The whole a di people dem weh dem house gone, them gone all different places. Some a dem even gone a St. Thomas," he says, shaking his head.

He remembers one of the worst nights, when he and his brothers had to pull a neighbour from a collapsing house.

"It happen so fast," he says. "By the time we knock pan the door, we see the people dem in a the house. Yuh see, by the time we help them out, the house drop dung."

For now, Spence stays put, because as he says, "It easier fi stay alive, yuh know, so yuh just affi gwan live."